My request, I believe, is what skyrocketed the evening. Before, he seemed to be holding back, waiting for me to let him know that this was okay and that it was all I ever wanted.
Well, it was. I needed this to happen right now. What we had at home had been placed on the back-burner. This was our escape—our moment—so we had to enjoy it. If there was one thing I knew, it was that escape was only temporary. So if this was going to be temporary, I wanted to fulfill myself and get as much out of this as possible.
“So…what now?” I was truly curious. I had no idea what came next. Did I go to him, or did I wait for him to come to me?
Cane’s jaw locked. He was quiet for so long that it made me fidget. My pulse skittered, creating a chaotic racket in my ears.
Finally making a move, he took a step to the left and pulled his shirt over his head. As he did, I couldn’t help staring at the ink and abs that’d been hidden beneath the thin layer of cotton. He tossed the shirt aside, eyes falling down to mine again. All he had left were the black suit pants from earlier. The bulge between his thighs had grown.
“I want you on your knees,” he commanded, voice gruff. This was a new voice. It held the same deep, demanding baritone he used when he’d had enough of waiting. “If you really want me,” he continued, “kneel for me. Right now.”
I swallowed thickly, focused on him as I slid off the edge of the bed and fell into place. My knees pushed together when they hit the floorboards, my hands shaky. I don’t know why they were shaking. Why was I so fucking nervous? I hoped he couldn’t tell.
He squared his shoulders, chin tipped up. “Crawl to me,” he ordered, a simple demand that sent chills down my spine. I leaned forward, pressing my palms flat on the floor, my hair falling around my face. I dropped my head to look at the floor, but he grunted with disapproval. “Eyes on me.” I picked my head back up, focusing on him, and with that, I could have sworn I saw a hint of a smirk form on the edges of his lips. I crawled on the cold, wooden floors—hand, knee, hand, knee—my heart beating like a drum. “Good girl,” he sighed, as if the sight of me on my knees gave him satisfaction.
When I was at his feet, still peering up at him, he lowered to a squat and placed a finger beneath my chin. “You’ll do anything for me, won’t you?”
“Yes,” I vowed.
“Good, because you’ll be doing a lot more for me tonight, little one.” He stood back up, his muscles flexing.
He shut his eyes for a brief moment and inhaled, and my stomach flipped. Panic swam through me. He was thinking too much about this. I knew what was on his mind. The guilt and secrets he’d have to keep buried once this was done.
“Cane,” I pleaded.
He held up a hand, head shaking.
I pressed my lips together, waiting.
Waiting.
Waiting.
“Get on the bed,” he finally said. His voice was harsher. He dropped his head to glare down, and I slid back a bit before rising. I made my way toward the bed, and he ordered me to lie flat on my back. I did as told while he stepped near the bottom of the bed, watching me with intense eyes.
“Have you ever played with yourself before, Kandy?”
His question caught me off guard. “W-what?”
“Have you ever made yourself come with your own hands?” he asked, like the question was a simple one to answer. Like he was asking if I liked cream with my coffee.
I shook my head. “No.”
His eyebrows shifted up, surprise in his features. “You’ve never tried?”
“I’ve tried but never had anything happen.”
Still standing at the bottom of the bed, he grabbed my ankles, lightly dragging me toward him. He was hovering above me when his hands came up to my thighs, shifting the sheer material of my dress up to my waist. I nearly stopped breathing when his hot skin skimmed over mine. He noticed. “What have I told you, Kandy? Breathe,” he insisted. Though he’d demanded it, his voice was soothing. His eyes shifted down to my pussy, and he stared for several seconds, unblinking.
I’d shaved this morning, long before Cane came to pick me up.
I was fresh. Bare. Ready. I’d read many articles about what to do down there before sex. I wasn’t bold enough to go for a Brazilian wax, nor did I have the money for it, so shaving was the best I could do for now. He seemed pleased, though.
“This,” he groaned, running a hand over the smooth mound. A tattered breath shot out of me, and my pulse quickened. “Make sure you’re always like this when I have you.”